


Like you are friends

by orphanghost



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Original Character(s), POV Alistair, POV Second Person, Pre-Relationship, Probably a Bisexual Awakening, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphanghost/pseuds/orphanghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lidon said that his tent was always open to you. But then, that had been before you met the assassin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like you are friends

Lidon said that his tent was always open to you. But then, that had been before you met the assassin. You still cannot understand why the Warden decided to bring him along. Lidon says things sometimes which toe the line between joking and rude, even cruel. Even still, when he told you that he was bringing Zevran along because collecting cast offs was what he did, that was the first time you had genuinely felt hurt by his words.

You wonder if you would have felt the same in a different context. Maybe here at camp. Maybe if Lidon had been talking about someone else, like Leliana or Sten. But, well. Recruiting them was different. They weren't… like Zevran. Assassins, that is. Well. You have to admit that maybe Leliana is a little bit of an assassin. But still, it’s different.

So, nothing has changed, you tell yourself as you carefully poke your head through the entrance to Lidon’s tent. You know Zevran is in there with him - you saw them go in together. But there isn’t any reason why that might change anything. Perhaps you can all be friends. Like you are friends with Lidon. Good friends.

  
‘Well, hello,’ Zevran says in surprise, catching sight of you.

They are sitting together in the far corner of the Warden’s tent on a pile of blankets. There is a half empty bottle of wine between them. No glasses, because you don’t really have the luxury of glasses or goblets. Just the bottle, presumably being passed between them. A bit intimate, you think, for two people who have known each other hardly more than a day.

'Mind if I join you?’ you ask, ignoring the bubble of discomfort in your stomach that says you are intruding, somehow. There is nothing to intrude on.

  
You see Zevran look at Lidon curiously, clearly deferring to him. Lidon quirks an eyebrow. 'Alistair,’ he says, pausing for a moment. The look he gives you is somewhat pointed. 'Uh…’

It occurs to you that it has been nearly a week since you slept on your own bedroll. It has become a pattern, of sorts, to slip into Lidon’s tent in the evening and talk. He was hardly an open book to start with - angry and sharp tongued and young. But you are young too, and you don’t mind the occasional tongue lashing. It works for you both, as far as routines go. You come into his tent after dinner, he insults you for a while, tells you that you smell, threatens to punch you if you keep acting like an idiot. Then, after a while he softens and tells you stories about his clan, or sings you Dalish songs in his unrefined, tuneless voice. He listens to you talk and comforts you with kind words if your own stories drift toward Duncan. If there is one thing that Lidon understands it is that family is more than blood. You appreciate this about him. So, after you talk, you don’t feel like going back to your own bedroll and there’s plenty of room in his tent. You sleep at the base of the mess of blankets and furs that Lidon has made a bed, and he kicks you sometimes in his sleep and never apologises for it.

'I can go,’ you say quickly, looking between your friend and the assassin. 'If you guys are just getting to know each other. I only thought I might-’

'Get to know us also?’ Zevran asks, a slow smirk gracing his lips.

Lidon laughs and elbows Zevran in the side. His cheeks are flushed from wine and it is an uncharacteristically relaxed look on him. His voice drops down so low that you don’t quite hear what he murmurs to Zevran, but you hear your name and see him shake his head, still snickering.

'Is that so?’ the assassin asks. 'Every night?’

'Every night,’ Lidon confirms.

'My, you are quite the tease, no?’ Zevran says to you.

'No…?’ you reply, feeling confused and a little out of your depth. 'I don’t know what you’re-’

'He *really* doesn’t,’ Lidon says to Zevran, but he pats the furs next to him for you to sit down. He picks up the wine and passes it to you. 'Sit down before I push you down.’

That’s more like it, you think. You willingly go, wondering if you just walked in at a particularly odd part of their conversation. Taking the wine from Lidon, you gulp down a long swallow and hold it out to the assassin. 'Uh, we didn’t really meet properly,’ you say.

Zevran waves with one hand and takes the wine with the other. 'No matter. I am an open book, I assure you. Undoubtedly you will know more about me than you ever wished to, soon enough.’

'What time is it?’ you ask. 'We don’t usually get to the deep and meaningfuls this early in the night. Can’t skip ahead.’

'Can too,’ Lidon points out, pointing to the wine. 'That’s what this is for. And what Zev and I were doing, I guess. Skipping ahead.’ He looks at you with a soft smile which seems almost pitying. 'You don’t mind, do you?’

Part of your mind has snagged on the fact that it is _Zev_ already. But you hush it and stumble over your tongue to say, 'Mind? Why would I mind? I think it’s good.’ You fish around for something to say. 'Particularly having another elf around, I guess. That must be nice?’

Lidon rolls his eyes. 'Sure,’ he says, in that dismissive way he has. A while ago it might have annoyed you; but you know him better now. 'Anything is better than being surrounded by shemlen every day, all day. But come on. Drink some more, relax. Zevran was just telling the story of his first job for the Crows.’

'Ah, yes, indeed I was!’ Zevran all but throws the wine back into your hands and launches into the story, He gestures openly as he acts out events. None of it is particularly flattering on his own talents, you notice. But it makes Lidon laugh, which is always something. He laughs rarely, preferring to grouch and grumble and sulk when he’s out of his comfort zone. Even when he is relaxed, alone with you, he isn’t much one for open laughter; favouring wry smirks and fast insults in response to your humour.

Zevran’s presence brings out something else in him, you notice. Something warmer that you have rarely glimpsed until now.

When he finishes the first story, Zevran tells another. You drink most of the rest of the wine, passing it only occasionally between the two elves. They’ve had enough. Lidon is a lightweight as it is, and Zevran doesn’t seem like he needs much social lubrication. As the talk goes on you relax, slipping into something more like your usual position in this tent; half reclined across the furs and watching the Warden and the assassin talk through half lidded, sleepy eyes.

After an hour or so, you are quite aware they are not talking to you at all, only each other. But that’s okay. You are tired, and quite happy to drift off to sleep while they talk, so long as Lidon doesn’t kick you out. It is warm in here and the rich tones of Zevran’s voice make it only warmer. Or maybe that’s the wine. Or both.

  
You yawn and see Lidon glance at you, the corner of his lip curled up. 'Sleep,’ he mouths at you, as Zevran recounts a perilous drop from a fourth story window into a vineyard.

You are not planning on sleeping, but you close your eyes anyway. It has been a long day and you are tired. You can feel the heaviness to your bones and the warm, thick furs beneath you are comfortable like little else is around here. The rhythm of Zevran’s voice is soothing, washing over you - and when sleep does come, sooner than perhaps you expected, you don’t fight it.

  
You don’t rest for long. In truth, you don’t properly sleep, because your dreams are half dream and half the stories that Zevran and Lidon are spinning for one another. But you drift off enough that everything becomes soft at the edges and the sounds of the forest outside fade away.

What wakes you is the sudden lull in conversation. It is the silence as it falls in the tent and you feel yourself stir just enough to listen to the quiet. You don’t open your eyes at first, wondering if perhaps the elves have drifted off as well. But no, you can sense them in the tent, and something is telling you they are both still awake.

That is when you hear the soft intake of breath. It is a quiet little noise, almost like surprise, quickly followed by a few sounds which you can only describe as _wet_. Once you become aware of them, you realise that they’ve actually been going for several moments, and perhaps that is why you knew that Zevran and the Warden were not asleep.

There is another short gasp and, curious, you crack your eyes open.

Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised that Zevran and Lidon are kissing, but you are. What you are even more surprised at is the feeling that slips down your spine, cool and discomforting. You shift only slightly on the furs, careful not to let on that you are awake, and tilt your head slightly better to look.

Zevran is leaning into Lidon’s space, one hand propping himself up on the furs and rugs beneath them and the other resting on Lidon’s bare thigh. His thumb is stroking slow circles on the Warden’s skin, creeping up under his leathers so, so slowly. Lidon has his hands tangled in Zevran’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him almost violently. He kisses like he’s drowning, pulling Zevran’s lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it, releasing it with a short nip and then kissing him again; deeper, claiming. His brows are furrowed in intense concentration, his cheeks flushed with want.

You know this isn’t something you should be seeing. You should close your eyes again, go back to sleep. But you cannot tear your eyes away, half closed though they are. You are fascinated, entranced. You didn’t realise that this was something that Lidon wanted. It didn’t occur to you that he might want it from other men, and suddenly you feel very stupid and naive.

You should not have intruded tonight. Then again, it has hardly stopped them.

It is clear that this isn’t just something that Lidon wants. It’s something he _needs_ judging from the desperate way he clutches at Zevran and pulls him closer, lies back so that their bodies are lined up, pressed tight together.

'What would you like from me?’ Zevran whispers, so quietly that you can only hear it because all else is silence aside from the loud thudding of your heart.

'Just this,’ Lidon says, grappling at their clothes. He’s not trying to remove them exactly. Just get them out of the way enough that they can- Okay, wow. So that they can do that, you suppose. You see your first glimpse of Zevran’s prick as you watch Lidon’s fingers wrap around it and start to stroke. Zevran groans, a little louder than any of the other noises so far and you have to quickly shut your eyes when Lidon glances your way.

'He sleeps like a log,’ you hear your friend murmur, and both him and the assassin laugh. You slowly, cautiously crack your eyes open again. Zevran’s hand is also moving somewhere around their midsections now. You can’t quite see what they are doing but from the quick jerks of Lidon’s hips and the gasping noises he’s making into Zevran’s mouth, you can only assume he is touching him.

Wow, you think. You should _not_ be watching this.

You keep watching.

You watch for what feels like a lifetime, painfully aware of the blood in your body - both as it thuds in your ears and as it rushes downwards to fill your own prick. You listen to every gasp and hungry noise that comes from Lidon, and you watch the way Zevran kisses and touches your friend until they are both gasping and shaking together, so close that _you_ can feel it. You can smell it on the air. You can almost taste it.

Then, when you think you can’t take it anymore, Lidon groans, long and low, and his hips thrust and his body tenses and, Maker end it all, he looks at you.

You don’t have time to close your eyes this time. His gaze falls on you and you are looking into his clear blue eyes as he comes, moaning his release. One of his hands is up under Zevran’s leathers, hidden. You can see the other hand moving faster, faster around the assassin’s prick.

'Look,’ you hear Lidon murmur to Zevran, his voice shaky from release. He jerks his head in your direction, and Zevran meets your eye, just for a moment. He grins, and winks at you. Then he slides his fingers through Lidon’s curly hair and kisses him. He finishes, gasping into the Warden’s mouth a few moments later, and then all is quiet once more. Except for heavy breathing, and the whirring of your own mind as you reel from what you have just watched.

You do not know what to do, so you close your eyes again. You hear a low chuckle and a few whispered words that you recognise as two people getting comfortable to lie down. Nothing insulting about you, you are fairly sure.

They sleep quickly. You, however, do not. You lie there for hours, body thrumming with whispering excitement that you can’t control. It takes a long time to fade down, until it is just a hollow feeling at your midsection, and finally you can attempt rest. Lidon kicks you occasionally in his sleep.

In the morning Zevran apologises to you on his behalf, calling the Warden terribly inconsiderate.

The next night finds you in his tent again. It is always open to you.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr and love to talk about trash porn so there's that.](http://orphanghost.tumblr.com/)


End file.
